


Bed

by DSJWinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-05-06
Updated: 2011-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DSJWinchester/pseuds/DSJWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Dean/Sam history told through beds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bed

They don't sleep in the same bed. Not any more. Not for years. After everything is done Sam lays sticky and hot beneath the sheets, eyes closed, face pressing against the pillow. He can feel Dean pull away retract into his own space. Dean slips out the bed cursing softly when warm feet meet cold floor. He moves in the crisp darkness to the bed on the other side of the motel room. Sam hears Dean's mumbled curses when he hits his shin on the way to the other bed. There is a shuffle of feet, a shift of cloth, a press of springs as Dean settles into the bed. It wasn't always like this. There was a time before when Sam could curl into Dean, rest his head in the spot between neck and shoulder, Dean's hand heavy on his hip. Things changed. A touch, searching scorching, a kiss, bruising brief, the fuck, fast aching desperate, a hot press of lips slick and wet against the side of his neck, than Dean is gone. He would stay if Sam asked him to. Sam never ask not for years.


	2. Chapter 2

When Sam was young, right after the fire and incidental lost of mother he would not sleep through the night. Sam would wake wailing in the late hours of the night missing a mom he was already starting to forget. Dean would sneak from his bed climb into Sam's crib wrapping himself around his baby brother. A brush of a kiss to a damp cheek, a slow rub of his stomach, a soft tune hummed only for his ears, Sam would slip back in to a dreamless sleep. Dean would pull the covers around them and hold Sam till morning. Sam doesn't remember this.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam is 14 in this....so that is underage wincest Dean would be either 17 or 18.

It started simple enough. On a night too hot for the layers of clothes to separate them. Sam was still young, old enough to know what he wanted. Young enough to not understand what that want meet beyond touch. Dad was missing he'd been gone for two days. Sam wasn't worried because Dean wasn't worried. He was still young enough to believe Dean could control the world, nothing bad would happen because Dean wouldn't let it happen, he hide this belief a lot better now than years past.

They lay under the covers side by side, dad's bed vacant and lost on the other side of the musty motel room. The air was heavy with the smell of them. They had been at this for over an hour. Dean hand was warped firmly around his own dick, his other hand clutching Sam's between loose fingers. Sam lent in closer pressing his face against Dean neck, inhaling the thick smell of his brother. It was always the best this way, Dean hands moving in long thick strokes, Sam breath coming in soft whimpers. Dean liked it best when he could hear Sam's whimper. He tugged on his own dick with one hand, fingers moving rapidly on Sam's with the other. In an instant it was over, Sam came hard wet mouth sucking hard on Dean neck, it was enough.

When it was done Dean pulled away. He lay on his side for a moment watching Sam breath. He stood suddenly pulling a mumbled question from Sam, who lay sprawled out on his back eyes closed, the sheet tangled around his legs. Running a hand through messy hair Dean walked to the bathroom in search of a wash cloth. When he came back Sam was already drifting off. Dean stood at the head of the bed watching Sam fall into sleep. Squatted down beside the bed he reached forward to run fingers throw too long shaggy brown hair. His hand moved lower tracing shallow eyelids, a long nose, soft mouth, stubborn chin. The baby fat was melting away leaving behind a slick lean face Dean hardly recognized. His movement stopped hand resting against Sam neck. His pulse beat strong and soothing under Dean's hand, he moved the wash cloth down over Sam's stomach wiping away the last trace of them. For two nights his brother had belonged to him. Tomorrow would bring change. Dad would be back and they would be on the move. Dropping the wash cloth on the floor, Dean kissed his brother smooth cheek and cross the room to the other bed. Throwing himself on to the cool sheets of his father's empty motel bed, he pulled the covers around himself and slept.

The next morning was the first time Sam could remember waking up alone. Dean was still sprawled out asleep on dad's empty bed.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam was getting use to waking up in an empty bed. There had been a time when an empty bed meant Dean was in the bathroom, he would be back. Than it had become the norm to roll into a space that had once held a warm body and know he would not be coming back. Than there had been acceptant. He sleep alone spreading his legs wide, stretching his arms out to make up for the lack of person. Than there had been Jess. She never fit in the spaces the way Dean did. She had her own space to fill. Curled against Sam, she fit near perfect. And than she too was gone. It was a shock returning to unfilled spaces.

Sam rolled into the vacant space Dean had left behind. It was still warm from his heat. If he opened his eyes, turned his head to the left, he would see his brother stretched out on the worn motel mattress, arm slung over his eyes. Sam could reach across the space rest his hand on Dean's wrist. He could call Dean's name. Dean would drop his arm, turn his head to the side, look at Sam with that half annoyed, half concerned look he reserved for late nights. Sam would whisper his name. Dean would crawl in next to Sam, warp his arm around Sam's waist. His breath would be warm, constant against Sam's shoulder. He would come if Sam asked. Sam wouldn't ask.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam lay stretched out on the motel bed, long legs dangling over the side. The gleam from the sun scratched at the back of his eyelids. It was early still, hours of sun left, still time to be moving. After the second time Sam throw up, Dean pulled over and cheek them into the first hotel he could find. He dumped Sam on the bed and left in search of something to eat.

The visions had slowed down for awhile. Now they were back. First the tug inside him, widening him, making things taut, stretched, impossibly open. He rolls on to his side trying to move out of the sun's path.

The door to the room opens, closes so softly he almost misses the click, than it is wonderfully dark. He couldn't hear Dean moving around the room but he felt him. Felt the bed dip under his added weight. Felt his hand merciful cool against his forehead .Felt the brush of his leather jacket as he moves his hand away. Sam wants to go with the hand didn't want it to leave. His head hurt too much to move, throat to tight to speak. The bed shifts with Dean's movements. Sam bites his lip to keep from make a sound as his brain jumps around his skull. Dean hears him anyway. He curses under his breath, the shifting stops. Than his hand is back, cool and rough against Sam's cheek.

"You okay there Sammy."

Sam grunts a response. Dean chuckles. Sam felt something cool against his mouth. Opens his lips, an ice cube slips over his tongue wonderfully wet... Dean fingers in his hair pushing the damp locks back off his forehead. He’s still to warm the room … stifling … Dean's fingers feel nice.

"Go to sleep Sammy I aint going nowhere."

Sam wants to open his eyes, wants to see Dean, to say something. Instead he lets himself drift away to the feeling of Dean's hand moving in his hair.


End file.
